


The Derling Motel

by poolsidescientist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Post-Episode: s11e10 My Struggle IV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-06-25 07:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15636354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poolsidescientist/pseuds/poolsidescientist
Summary: Alex Krycek has spent the past 15 years as a night manager at rural motel trying to forget his past. Unfortunately his past hasn't quite forgotten him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea in my head for ages so why not? I don't own the X-Files nor do I pretend that this fic is any good. Your opinions and ideas are more than welcome.

Alton Kerouac was a fake name fit for a porn star. Surprisingly, not the worst career choice a man could make. Had Alex Krycek chosen to be a porn star instead of a government employee he would probably still have both of his arms and at least some of his dignity. Unfortunately, Krycek had chosen to join the FBI and gotten involved with matters far above his pay grade and his life had unraveled from there. He had been a decent information broker, a mediocre assassin, and a terrible spy. By the time A.D. Skinner had put a bullet in his brain, Krycek had had enough of his disappointingly unglamorous life of espionage. 

The only reason his remains were not rotting in a parking garage or tossed into a ravine somewhere was due to one alien shapeshifter known as Jeremiah Smith. Krycek had helped Smith in the past, and in return for giving his remaining knowledge to the rebels, he used his healing ability to revive him. Along with being brought back from the dead, the rebels had gifted him a better prosthetic arm. Made of some form of alien metal, it was useful but conspicuous. At least initially. Now, he mainly got winter soldier jokes which he responded to by cursing people in Russian. Damn those stupid Marvel movies. How many of those superhero movies could they make? Too many it seemed. 

At least with no one looking for him anymore, Krycek could go to movies on a regular basis. He had missed that part of life along with good hygiene and sleep. He dared say he had found a sort of peace with himself.

Peaceful was one word that could be used to describe the town of Derling, Oregon. A town not too far from Bellefleur. Other appropriate adjectives included: quaint, rural, forgettable, sleepy, and unassuming. A perfect place for a retired fugitive to settle down and build a life. Derling was a 300-year-old former logging town now host to campgrounds and tourist traps. The nearby woods were perfect for a variety of sports from hiking to hunting to kayaking. Crime rates were low and everyone knew each other. Other than tourism, the town’s other main export was Bigfoot Erotica.

Dolores Derling was the direct descendant of the town’s founder and was a bestselling author. Making the most of her surroundings, she had become a nationally acclaimed novelist. Of course, most of her books centered around Bigfoot. The woods surrounding Derling were a sasquatch sighting hotspot and Krycek counted his lucky stars that agent Mulder himself hadn’t shown up along with the hoard of cryptid hunters and other supposed ‘truth seekers’. Of course Krycek would find himself in a town full of tourists and questionable residents. It was easy to be overlooked in such a town. Any remaining members of the consortium had certainly overlooked him. And not only was Krycek now a resident of Derling, he was the night manager at the Derling motel.

It was a boring job, nothing much happened in Derling. But no one wanted to kill him for once in his life, and the town did have surprisingly good internet and amenities. Dolores herself owned the motel. She treated her employees well and didn’t ask too many questions. The day manager Mike also had a criminal record, albeit one for selling marijuana rather than murder and treason. Rather than winter soldier jokes, they compared him to Jaime Lannister although Krycek didn’t really know which ones were better. Of the comparisons, the ‘A Song of Ice and Fire’ books were much better than the show. With his job, he had time to read them all. Krycek had never been a bookworm but his job gave him plenty of opportunities to read the town had an excellent library.  


Alex Krycek was reading a mediocre fantasy novel when his over fifteen years of peace had finally ended. It was 2:45am when he received a call about a noise complaint in cabin six. It was also a dark and stormy night. He grabbed his flashlight and a raincoat, cursing the ‘vulgar moaning’ from the night’s guests. 

Heading out into the night, he dragged his feet out into the night. The residents of cabin six were loud, painfully loud. He walked towards the cabin.

“Ohhh, baby.” The man moaned, his voice was familiar somehow.

“Harder...faster.” The woman’s voice was familiar too.

“Oh Scully-” he heard from the cabin. More noises ensued. Krycek dropped his flashlight. 

“Oh shit.” He thought to himself, running back to the front desk and crossing his remaining fingers that Mulder and Scully were only there for the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter two! I still don't own the X-Files, just my questionable ideas. Any comments, questions, and/or ideas are more than welcome.

“Hey Jason, do you think you could deliver this to cabin six,” Krycek handed a typed up noise complaint to the janitor, a scrawny kid who had come to Derling six months ago and Krycek suspected was on the run. “Just slide it under the door or something.”

“Isn’t cabin six the FBI agents? Also it’s Jackson but if they ask I’m not here and I just left for California.” The kid pleaded. There was something familiar about him but Krycek couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Okay, not my place to ask. But what are the FBI even investigating here, Bigfoot?” If Mulder and Scully were here he wouldn’t be surprised. That and there hadn’t been any major crimes in the area for quite a while. Trust Mulder to haul his and his partner’s asses out to buttfuck nowhere over a myth and somehow find a way to screw him over in the process.

“Actually yeah, they’re here about the Bigfoot sightings two weeks ago near the motel.” Jackson rolled his eyes, he wasn’t one to believe in cryptids.

“Those were a promotional photoshoot for our boss’s latest book,” Krycek explained

“Seriously,” the kid raised an eyebrow, “she paid someone to dress up like Bigfoot for her creepy porn novels?”

“Hey, those creepy porn novels make her a lot of money. And yes, she did. It was uncomfortable, the Bigfoot suit was heavy and smelled like wet dog.”

“Yikes.”

“The money was good, but it’s an embarrassing story and I really don’t want to tell it to the FBI about it. If you could deliver the noise complaint so I don’t have to see them I’ll buy you a bottle of vodka or something, I’ll pay you, I do not want to be a tabloid headline.” Shame was not an emotion Krycek was familiar with but it was a convincing argument, hopefully enough of one to get him off the hook. Being Mulder’s punching bag was not an experience he was nostalgic about.

“Sorry Winter Soldier, the last thing I want to deal with are a bunch of horny old monster hunters. Boss is bad enough.” Jackson cringed. While genuinely grossed out, the kid was lying. He was lying to a former spy and not as clever as he thought he was.

“That’s not why you’re running, you know these people somehow. You’re running from them. Why?” He had trapped Jackson in a corner. It was time to see if he would fight or try to run and Krycek would know what he was up against with the teenager.

“Look, it’s kind of a weird story,” the kid slumped his shoulders and sighed. Moping, the kid chose to mope when backed against a wall. 

“I’ve heard some pretty weird stories back in my day. Shoot.” he offered the kid a chair. Jackson sat down.

“These FBI agents, they’re my birth parents,” Jackson confessed. “Apparently they were investigating a government conspiracy and people were threatening to kill me so they gave me up for adoption. But then stuff happened in my hometown and the government conspiracy people came and killed my adoptive parents and I’ve been on the run ever since.”

“That’s quite a story.” Krycek did his best to act confused. Confused as how a person who knew nothing about government conspiracies would be confused rather than one who was confused by how his past always found a way of coming back to haunt him. “Kinda spooky if you ask me,” he made a point not to laugh at his own joke.

“It gets weirder. Apparently my biological grandfather was a key figure in the conspiracy, creepy narcissistic smoking dude, and was trying to hunt me down. But due to experiments done on me I have powers and shit, so I let him shoot me and played dead. After that I went back to my girlfriend who dumped me for cheating on her so I hitchhiked here because I need space to process stuff. The FBI agents killed the old guy but they still think I’m dead, and I’m not ready to confront them yet. I have to get out of here!” Jackson pleaded.

“Okay. I believe you.” Krycek sat down and patted the kid on the shoulder with his metal arm.

“Really?” Jackson looked surprised. His mannerisms were a lot like Mulder’s now that Krycek thought about it. 

“Yeah, that’s too messed up of a story to have made up on the spot.” Krycek couldn’t help feel bad for the child he had attempted to murder as an infant. Not bad enough to avoid using the teen as a hostage if it came down to it. But it was good to keep your enemies close and their children closer.

“We gotta take a few days off work and get out of town,” Jackson suggested.

“Okay, I think I have a plan.” Krycek did not have a coherent plan, at most he had 15% of a concept. But he was desperate and it would have to work.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I've had a truly abysmal week. I don't own the X-Files so nothing's changed there.

The office fridge was a pitiful sight. Ms. Derling never used it and the rest of the staff preferred to leave things in Carol the handywoman’s workshop fridge. Krycek suspected he was the only person to have used the fridge in the last five years. Even so, he avoided it as much as he possible. Inside the fridge were a package of water bottles, a half empty vodka bottle, an unopened jar of herring, and a suspicious mold growing out of the empty vegetable keeper. Krycek grabbed the herring jar. It had been expired for over two years.

“That’s disgusting. Who the fuck eats pickled fish?” Jackson wrinkled his nose as Krycek opened the jar.

“It’s an eastern European thing. Pickled herring and onions are a good midnight snack,” Krycek explained.

“Okay then, but why has this jar been sitting in the fridge for so long?”

“I bought the kind with bones by mistake.” Krycek sniffed the herring before picking out a piece and eating it. Definitely expired. Jackson gagged from the smell. 

“Ewww.” Jackson looked truly nauseous.

“Take a piece of fish or onion and eat it. Call Mike and tell him we ate the gross fridge herring and got food poisoning. If he asks, I’m driving you home and we need the next day or so off.” Krycek explained. Jackson ate a few onions before calling the day manager and managed to throw up while on the phone. Krycek flushed the rest of the fish down the toilet and rinsed out the jar. 

“I got us time off, we gotta get out of here.” Jackson washed the remaining vomit off of his face in the sink. “Where to now Winter Soldier?”

“I think I know a place.” That place was Derling’s cottage in the middle of the woods. Unless bigfoot turned out not to be a hoax, the odds of anyone going there were slim to none. Both men grabbed their bags and he drove off into the night.

………….

It had taken them two hours but they finally reached Dolores Derling’s sasquatch-themed rural cottage. Jackson, it appeared, had some sort of telekinetic abilities and kept changing the radio station from bad country music stations to even worse country music stations. The kid was obnoxious, definitely Mulder’s. No wonder the aliens didn’t come to collect him. He wondered if Jackson could read his mind as Gibson Praise had. Maybe Jackson knew everything about him, maybe he didn’t, or maybe he didn’t care. Whatever the case, the brat needed his space and Krycek had at least enough self preservation not to mess with him or pry too deeply. Obviously Jackson trusted him to some extent, as he was willing to fall asleep in his presence. He snored for the last half hour of the trip.

“We’re here.” Krycek tapped Jackson on the shoulder and lead him inside. Derling’s cabin was a comfortable cottage but there were Bigfoot pictures on the wall, as well as various paraphernalia decorating the interior. Derling’s Bigfoot suit was on display next to the couch.

“This place is fucking creepy. What’s so special about Bigfoot anyways? It’s probably just some weird-ass bear. How can anyone believe in that cryptid crap?” Jackson rolled his eyes at the decor. He was clearly Scully’s child as well as Mulder.

“What’s special about Bigfoot is that it’s good for Derling’s economy by bringing in tourists that spend money here.”

“Whatever winter soldier.” He rolled his eyes again. Krycek walked towards the bookshelf, pulled out a copy of ‘Cryptids and Demons in America’ and took a step back as the shelf swung open into a door.

“Ms. Derling has a secret room. We can wait here until the FBI leaves town. ”

“Why the secret room?” Jackson asked as they walked through the bookshelf. Inside were a couple of couches, more bookshelves, a mini fridge, and a pool table. On the wall was one of those fancy two-way mirrors where they could see what was going on in the rest of the cabin. There was even a bathroom. It was far from the worst place Krycek had used to hide from the FBI. 

“No idea, I never ask these questions.” Krycek shrugged. He flipped the bookshelf back around and sat on one of the couches. Asking questions was never his forte. 

“If you asked more questions you’d probably still have both your arms.”

“Don’t remind me.” He grimaced at the memory.

“You wore too much hair gel when you worked with my dad.” Jackson slumped into the couch against the wall.

“It was the ‘90’s. Also how do you know about my past?” Normally Krycek would be panicking in such a circumstance, but he was tired and probably deserved what was going to happen to him. He might not have been the brightest man to walk the earth, but fighting a telekinetic teenager was an idea so bad even he had no inclination to try it.

“Telepathic connection with my birth parents.” He shrugged like it was nothing. Maybe to him it wasn’t. “I’ve looked in on all of their memories. You were in a lot of them. My dad beat you up a lot. You tried to stop me from being born and their boss shot you in the head and killed you. I gotta ask, how did you survive that?”

“Aliens owed me a favour. It’s a long story.”

“You know what, I don’t even wanna know the details.” Jackson slumped further into the couch. “I just want time and space to figure my shit out. This town sucks, but nobody asks questions about anything so that’s kind of nice. I’m guessing that’s why you stayed here for so long,” Jackson yawned. 

“I guess so.” Krycek watched as the kid fell asleep. Jackson. was clearly tired and had an long list of emotional issues. Undeniably Mulder’s son. His own eyes closed not long after. Krycek hoped they could sleep peacefully. They had the best hideout in the area.There was no reason for anyone to come out to the cabin. Or so he thought so until being woken up by the sound of footsteps.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter's a little M-rated so be warned.
> 
> Thanks everyone for reading and hope you enjoy the chapter :)

The door creaked open. Krycek had locked it so whoever was coming in had either picked the lock or had a key. He hoped it was Dolores. He was a fool to hope for anything. Special agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully just had to be the ones to walk into the cabin. He looked at Jackson for a second, a shared glance of empathy and terror. Even behind the two-way mirror he had no way of predicting what would happen.

“Well this is...something.” Scully looked around the room, judging the interior decor. It was years since Krycek had seen her. He dared admit that she’d aged well, a bit more so than her partner. More surprising to him was the fact that she was heavily pregnant. How at her age and history of infertility she had gotten pregnant was a mystery. Judging by how her relationship with Mulder didn’t seem to have changed over the years, he had an idea who the father was.

“A woman after my own heart.” Mulder took the head off of the sasquatch suit to admire it. His sense of humour had not changed over the years. Krycek felt annoyed and frustrated but also somehow aroused by it all. Hopefully Jackson would not pay attention to the latter detail. But he was a teenage boy so he would.

“I don’t really see what we have to investigate here Mulder. Ms. Derling said that the Bigfoot sightings were just the night manager of the motel which she paid to pose in the suit for book covers and postcards. Apparently he’s really embarrassed by this and doesn’t want to end up as a tabloid headline. I’m not sure I can blame the guy.” Scully explained. Mulder flopped down on the couch.

“You’re right Scully. I talked to the day manager and he said that the night manager and one of the janitors got food poisoning so they’re not in today. I’m just not entirely sure that’s a coincidence.”

“Mulder, we have no case,” she slumped down on the couch beside him, “also the baby’s kicking and my feet hurt.”

“Looks like little Nessie’s a natural gymnast.”

“We are not naming our daughter after the Loch Ness Monster.” Scully rolled her eyes and Mulder pouted. Of course the man still pouted. And of course Krycek was still into it.  
“We’re going to have to name her after something.” Mulder kisses Scully’s cheek as she leaned into him.

“I just want her to have a name with no emotional baggage. No cryptids, no family members who suffered and died. Our little gymnast deserves her own life.” Mulder and Scully were very comfortable with each other and Jackson was very uncomfortable watching them. Krycek almost wanted to hug the poor teenager. He had grown soft in his old age.

“How about Georgia?” Mulder suggested after a brief pause.

“Georgia, like the state?” Scully raised an eyebrow.

“No, like the painter. Your first daughter was named Emily and there was an artist named Emily Carr, then our son Jackson, like Jackson Pollock, so why not name her Georgia after Georgia O'Keeffe.”

“I do have a big print of hers in my bedroom. Melissa was a fan.” Scully smiled. Mulder smiled back at her. They were in love and it was sickening. She kissed him on the couch and before long they were making out like two horny teenagers. She took his jacket off and loosened his tie.

“Making out in a Bigfoot-themed cabin, this is the dream,” Mulder confessed as they ripped each other’s blouses off. Scully looked up at him with a wicked grin. She flung off her bra.

“Shut up and fuck me Mulder.” She kissed him again. Their clothes had flown all over the room. Scully’s pregnant belly had presented a challenge so they had decided to do it doggy style. If Bigfoot were real and in these woods, it would be able to hear Mulder and Scully having sex. They were neither quiet or modest. Krycek rushed over to cover Jackson’s eyes. No teenager deserved to watch their parents fuck doggy-style in the sasquatch-themed cabin of an erotica writer. No wonder the kid wanted his space from them.

Krycek looked out at the agents and continued to watch them. Mulder’s cock had aged well and seeing it brought back memories. Krycek had sucked that very cock on their first ever case together. They had been in stuck in traffic on the Jersey turnpike and decided to pull over and have sex. As one would expect from two tall men in a small car, it was awkward and they never mentioned it again. They only slept together one more time. It was in their cell of the Russian prison camp they had broken into. It was for warmth Mulder said. Perhaps that’s what he still tried to convince himself.

But now Mulder and Scully were officially a couple. Both surprisingly flexible for their age as well. Krycek’s back hurt just watching them. When they finally concluded their lovemaking session, Mulder and Scully put there clothes back on in silence. Mulder looked around the room.  
“I don’t know about you Scully but I kinda feel like I’m being watched.” Mulder glared into the mirror as he straightened his tie.

“Is it the Bigfoot suit or the erotic paintings of Bigfoot?” Scully criticised the decor.

“You have a point there.”

“Mulder we should go, this cabin gives me the creeps.”

“You have a point there Scully.” Mulder took one last glance at the cabin’s interior before he and Scully left. A few minutes later, Jackson and Krycek heard the sound of the car leaving. Still, they stood there in silence, not knowing quite what to say to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the closest I've come to writing smut. I'm edging towards it even though it scares me. Will get there eventually.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a 3-week job starting and I work 76 hours and 7 days a week starting Monday so I figured I would end this story while I still had the momentum. Thank you so much for reading! It's been an adventure. If you've got anything to say good or bad I'd love to hear it so let me know what you think.

It was quiet for hours. At least what felt like hours in a place with no clock or internet access. Still, Jackson paced. He paced like Mulder used to pace. It brought back memories that Krycek would rather not remember. He lay on the couch with his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep.

“My birth parents, they seem happy,” Jackson sighed, sitting awkwardly on the armrest of the couch.

“That’s one way to say it kid.”

“You know, I always used to wonder about my birth parents. I saw visions of them, but they were like, an abstract idea rather than actual people. Then my adoptive parents were murdered and I met them and they’re actual people now,” Jackson philosophised. Krycek suspected the kid either wrote fanfiction or terrible poetry in his spare time. “But since then we’ve all been through some shit together. I just, I keep thinking what my life could have been like if I grew up with them. I mean, it doesn’t matter now. They have the baby. They’ll be happy. They don’t need me. They never actually needed me. They just needed the idea of me until they had a better kid.”

“How do you know this kid will be better than you are?” Krycek asked. It was the wrong thing to ask.

“I know. I know. I just know. I was a science experiment and my parents, they suffered because of me. First so I could be born, then to give me away, and now I was back in their lives for a little bit. I exist as part of their suffering. I don’t know who I am. You knew my parents winter soldier. So tell me, who the hell am I supposed to be?”

“How the fuck should I know? I’ve been living here in buttfuck nowhere for your entire life. And just because I sucked your dad’s dick a few times back in the day doesn’t mean I know shit about your destiny.” Krycek rubbed his eyes in frustration. He was tired. Tired from lacking sleep but also the sort of bone-tired one gets when their past catches up with them. Nevertheless, he sat up, “I’m sorry for yelling at you Jackson.”

“It’s fine,” he shrugged, “but now I really wish I went to California. After this shit clears up I’m gonna go lie on a beach in a town whose main export isn’t sasquatch erotica.” Jackson took a can of iced tea out of the mini fridge. By then they had both relaxed. The tension in the cabin had lifted. Soon they would never have to see each other again. At least if they survived that long. Another car had parked in the driveway.

“Shit,” Krycek snuck back into the main part of the cabin. He was on edge until he saw the car. He recognised the car and waved at Jackson to leave the hidden room. Less than a minute later, Dolores Derling herself walked into the cabin.

“Well, look who isn’t winning employee of the month right now.” Derling scowled at both men. “The fucking FBI agents were here! They came, they investigated nothing, they fucked in my cabin and didn’t clean up after themselves, and now they’re in town for three more days before going back to DC.” She walked in and placed her grocery bags on one of the end tables, “where is safe to sit?”

“Not the couch,” Jackson warned.

“We’re sorry about the mess Ms. Derling, I promise we’ll go back to work once the FBI agents leave.”

“Alright Mr. Krycek, but this comes out of your vacation days.”

“Wait, how do you know my real name?” he asked nervously. Not that Jackson was any calmer.

“When you first came to town I asked Letitia to tell me who you were.”

“Letitia, the town psychic? But how? You told me yourself that her business was a tourist trap.”

“It is. But she used to work for the Pentagon and she’s nifty with computers. Leaked documents to the public about some military contracts many years ago and has been on the run ever since, not unlike you.” Derling took out a bag a corn chips and a jar of spinach dip.

“Holy shit, is everyone in Derling hiding from the government?” Jackson shook his head in disbelief.

“Just about Jackson, just about,” she opened up the chips and ate one, “snacks?”

It was then when a rumble came from the woods and lumbering footsteps walked up to the cabin. The door handle turned and neither Krycek nor Jackson could believe what they saw. It was Bigfoot himself. An seven-foot-tall hairy and muscular sasquatch walking casually through the door. It waved at them and helped itself to snacks. It was Mulder’s wet dream. The fact that he wasn’t here to see it made Krycek’s day.  
“You... you’re real,” Jackson stared up at the sasquatch in disbelief.

“You’re damn right I am.” The sasquatch winked and put it’s arm around Derling, who looked up lovingly at it. Krycek had a feeling Mulder and Scully were not the first to have sex in this cabin. He and Jackson shared a knowing look of both terror and disgust. It was well past time to get the hell out of Derling. Maybe California wasn’t such a bad idea after all.


	6. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was looking over this fic and felt like it needed an epilogue. It was a hard story to end so thanks to everyone who has read this :)

“Would you say that baby is burrito sized, or that the burritos we had for lunch were infant sized?” Jackson Van Der Kamp wondered aloud. The baby in question was his sister. Scully had recently given birth to the healthy baby she and her partner were currently doting on.

“It’s the burritos that are large. And the damn gulls.” Krycek’s truck was covered in seagull droppings. In his many miserable years of espionage work, Krycek had seen many terrible things but somehow the massive seagulls of San Diego still managed to make him uncomfortable. There should be a size limit for scavenging birds.

“Well winter soldier, we made it to California,” Jackson stretched out across the rock he was sitting on. The kid watched his birth parents. He had managed to evade them thus far. Getting out of Derling was easy, and they had managed to avoid unpleasant encounters with law enforcement. Scully’s brother was still stationed in San Diego. Krycek had verified this with Letitia, the former Pentagon employee turned fake psychic. He made a point not to tell Jackson anything. He needed to figure things out on his own. For once, Krycek made good on his promise and to California they went.

“We did.” It had been a long time since Krycek had seen the ocean.

“They look so happy.” Jackson looked at his parents. Their love had grown from stolen glances to public affection. For all their flaws, they deserved to be happy and together. It was a truth even Krycek couldn’t deny.

“They’d be happier if you were there,” he patted the kid on the shoulder with his metal arm, “go”. Jackson looked back at him with an expression of both discomfort and understanding and walked towards his parents. Krycek walked back towards his truck. It was time to go back to Derling. The old town had grown on him like mold on forgotten cheese. It had become his home. Besides, there was something satisfying in knowing that he had met Bigfoot before Mulder did.


End file.
